


A Dragon's Wrath

by Only_Jonsa



Series: My Brother, My Alpha, My King [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:00:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29135931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only_Jonsa/pseuds/Only_Jonsa
Summary: A longer drabble from Arya's POV.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: My Brother, My Alpha, My King [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128032
Comments: 24
Kudos: 72





	A Dragon's Wrath

**Author's Note:**

> Daenerys and Tyrion are only mentioned in this. For those who love their characters, I apologise in advance, for this will not be the vindication you may be looking for after the show.
> 
> For those who dislike them and might be concerned I'll let Daenerys win or separate Jonsa in any way, worry not. All will be well.

The grief Arya felt at losing her father was still debilitatingly painful, the wound it left behind completely unhealed. Everything since that terrible day appeared to be a cruel mixture of joy and disappointment: a little salve before a fresh cut would surface.

There was the pure joy she felt when her favourite brother presented as alpha, triumphing over every other male in the pack who might have thought he was beneath them, just because he wasn’t trueborn. There was a vindication in it for him, and for her too, for believing in him when others had not.

Then had come the bewildering disappointment of Sansa presenting as his omega. It left her feeling truly disgusted at them for allowing themselves to become anything but brother and sister to one another, but also had her feeling disgruntled, knowing that she was once again eclipsed by pretty, perfect Sansa. Her older sister was always the favourite; did she have to be Jon’s too?

Jon and Robb’s departure South to war was conflicting for her too. She was relieved that Jon and Sansa would be separated for a time, but she feared that he and Robb might be lost in battle and dreaded receiving news that they, like her father, would never return North.

Unspeakable happiness came upon her when the news they received was, in fact, good. When word reached them of the triumph at the Battle of Blackwater and the succession of Stannis Baratheon, she had rejoiced; they all had.

The North celebrated the victory of their brave soldiers and their Southern allies over the Lannsiters with great cheer. There was sadness for those who perished but a wave of relief for the scores of men who would safely return to them, including their alpha and beta.

When her brothers arrived home, Arya was elated. A great feast was held in honour of the victorious living and in memory of the equally victorious dead.

Arya had snuck some ale when her mother wasn’t looking and joined the men in toasting the new King of the Seven Kingdoms, even if Stannis had refused the North independence and relegated Jon to Warden; even if he had a red witch by his side and might have killed his own brother with his own shadow child.

The ale tasted bitter but the vengeance against those who had murdered her father tasted sweet. Jon and Robb’s triumphant tale of Joffrey’s beheading and his true parents’ life imprisonment apart from one another and their remaining children was one of the best she’d ever heard, even if the Lannister line hadn’t ended and the children had been carried away as wards to other families.

The disappointment, as expected, came swiftly afterwards. Arya supposed it was to be expected with the way Jon and Sansa carried on. They were all over each other and doing things that were against every law and all good sense. They had clearly refused to heed the warning of Joffrey and the Mad King before him, announcing the babe in Sansa’s belly to the family one evening like the coming of the Prince who was Promised. It made Arya so sick, she heaved her dinner up, right in front of them all.

Sansa had the audacity to demand an apology, as if Arya could help her reaction to something so revolting. Fortunately, their mother was too stunned to take Sansa’s side and force Arya to grumble one against her will. The truth was their mother didn’t side with Sansa all that much anymore, which Arya was exceedingly glad of. At least she knew she wasn’t alone in her horror at the bastard her sister was going to give birth to. It made Arya shudder to think on it, so she tried very hard most days not to.

Fortunately, other things came about soon afterwards about to distract her and the rest of the North from what was happening between their alpha and his half-sister turned omega.

A Targaryen had newly arrived on Dragonstone with an army of unsullied and Dothraki, ready to fight Stannis for the throne in King’s Landing. More incredible than that were the reports that she brought three dragon children along with her.

Arya had always loved tales of Visenya, the fierce Targaryen dragon-rider, who brought the Dornish to heel. Choosing to ignore the fact that Visenya had also had a child with her brother, by resolving that Targaryens were different and it was probably why they had all but died out anyway, she wondered if the new Targaryen would be just as fearsome and brave.

The self-appointed queen was yet another in a very long line to declare herself the rightful ruler of the seven kingdoms. She was also demanding the North’s loyalty, a loyalty that had been sworn to Stannis when they fought the Lannisters. 

“You cannot think of answering her summons,” Sansa screeched, the sound piercing through the quiet corridors, and drawing Arya closer to Jon’s chambers.

“If we don’t, what is to stop her flying to the North and demanding our allegiance, or worse our blood, after she defeats Stannis?” Jon argued back.

Arya knew she shouldn’t be lurking in the shadows and listening to their private conversation, but she couldn’t help herself, nor could she help relishing in the fact that the two of them were fighting for once.

“You cannot know that she will win. Stannis is a good soldier and one you once agreed to fight for.”

“We agreed to fight alongside him to defeat the Lannisters and we paid for it heavily with our independence. Fighting a Dragon Queen will mean paying with our lives.”

“You still don’t know that she will be victorious or that going to Dragonstone isn’t a trap to have you killed,” Sansa wailed. Her sister was sounding desperate now.

“Tyrion managed to get away during the Battle of the Blackwater, making his way across the Narrow Sea to serve as her hand. He was the one that wrote to me and I believe he is too smart to risk an open rebellion in the North by harming or imprisoning its warden,” Jon reasoned.

“You are more than that! You are our alpha, our leader and we need you here. I need you here!” Sansa sobbed. Her sister was certainly becoming hysterical to Arya’s ears and she had no idea how Jon could abide it and attempt to placate her. In his place, Arya would have stormed off to let her weep alone.

“I don’t want to leave again, Sansa, not after so recently returning from battle. Perhaps I could look away if I hadn’t with my own eyes, seen wildfire sweep across the blackwater, killing many of Stannis’s men before our eventual victory, seen how quickly it ravaged those sailing there. I don’t want to let dragonfire one day do the same. I cannot risk a dragon’s wrath upon the North or the people I love. I cannot risk any harm that might come upon the woman I love and the child of mine that she carries,” Jon explained. Arya grimaced at that. Jon just didn’t seem like her brother to her anymore.

There was a long period of silence after that which had Arya stalking closer towards the barred door to press her ear to it and discover what she was missing out on, until she heard something that sounded suspiciously like the clashing together of lips and worse still, the sound of Sansa moaning. Arya fled instantly, racing through the corridors, and wishing she could run far away, maybe all the way to Dragonstone to see the Targaryen with dragons for herself.  
_________

Arya hadn’t managed to run as far as the godswoods that day, let alone to the bay of dragons. Her septa had prevented it, even more aggrieved and exasperated with her than usual now that Sansa was an omega and no longer within her grasp.

The extra vigilance with which she was watched by her mother and septa, who would both probably like to have under lock and key like Sansa had been when she presented, infuriated her beyond belief. There was no way she would be able to get away to hide among the retinue of men that were being deployed to Dragonstone to meet with the Queen residing there. 

There would be no sightings of dragons for Arya, not unless it all went horribly wrong of course and the wrath of the Dragons would in fact be unleashed upon the North. She knew that despite her unbridled curiosity she would not look forward to such an event, not even if it caught her a glimpse of this new Visenya.

The only person more distressed about not being allowed to go South was Robb. Jon had commanded him to stay behind to protect the family and as his beta he had to obey, however much it rankled him. It was hard for a beta to be parted from his omega and ominous too, for the last time that had happened, it had been their father that stayed behind and Uncle Brandon had not lived to return to them.

Arya briefly wondered what would happen if the worst happened and Jon died like Uncle Brandon, making Robb became the alpha. Theon might even be the beta, which would make him even more insufferable than he has been recently, sulking now that Robb was always with Jon and he was left out. She supposed she could understand the sentiment and ought to seek Theon out to commiserate sometime.

According to the laws of the gods a new omega would present for Robb to bond to, for Sansa was his blood. Then again, blood was supposed to prevent Sansa from mating with Jon, and that had been an abysmal failure.

Arya imagined that her sister was the anomaly, born to corrupt the men in their family, but decided almost immediately that was too ungenerous. As much as Sansa and Jon being mated bothered Arya, she couldn’t blame Sansa in all good conscience. Her sister hadn’t asked for the mark on her chest or seduced Jon of her own accord, although Arya was certain if one ever showed up on her flesh whilst her kin was an alpha, she would drown herself in the hot springs at once. But then again, she had always been braver than Sansa.

Sansa was not being brave or stoic as she ought to be right now either, her hand on her stomach and her lower lip trembling as Jon said his goodbyes. When he kissed her before leaving, Arya had to look away, but this time it was more than just disgust that made her avert her eyes, there was something tragic in how utterly devastated Sansa looked to be left behind. Watching her made Arya realise that they finally had something in common.

Robb directed them all back into the keep once the retinue had taken their leave, bossing them about as if he was the alpha already, but the uncertainty in his eyes and downturned mouth showed that he was not excited to be stuck in charge at Winterfell whilst Jon and the others went to treat with the mother of dragons.

Arya considered that night, as her head hit her pillow, that the only thing more worrying than Jon’s babe in Sansa’s belly was a woman who carried no child at all but bore three dragons in the world instead. Jon had been right, who can oppose anyone with that much power behind them?


End file.
